Coming Home

  “I think our table’s this way,” Nick said, guiding them to the back right of the ballroom.

  Most of the women wore gowns. Some had short dresses on, but nothing like the dress she’d selected. A cool dew of sweat formed between her breasts, as she grew more uncomfortable about her choice of attire. What was she thinking, wearing a dress like this? She looked like trash.

  Men uniformly looked the same. The only telltale differences were in their build and age. It was disorienting, being surrounded by so many men in black. Her steps depended on Nick’s lead as her legs went into autopilot so her eyes could search for Lucian.

  They reached their table and Scout took a seat so she was facing the crowd. She wanted to be able to observe from the corner. At their place settings, Nick found a menu and commented on the formality of the courses as she continued her fruitless game of I Spy.

  “Champagne?”

  Scout turned as a waitress held out a tray. “Thank you,” she said, replacing her empty glass with a full one.

  “You may want to slow down. We haven’t eaten yet,” Nick whispered. “I’m going to go up to the bar and see about getting a beer.”

  She nodded, ignoring his warning, and sipped from the flute. The room grew louder as more people arrived. Where was he? Her gaze snagged on a flicker of red and she spotted Nottingham. And there was Lucian, right beside her.

  Her molars locked. He wasn’t touching her, but the woman stood stoically by his side, clearly staking her claim to him. Someone must have said something funny. Nottingham laughed and her tiny, scarlet-painted nails caressed the sleeve of his jacket.

  Scout finished her champagne and guzzled the water at her place. She was incredibly thirsty for some reason. Magically, a white-gloved hand swept her empty glass away and replaced it with a new one.

  Nick reappeared with a glass of dark amber beer. Its heady scent mingled awkwardly with the pure fragrance of roses. “So what happens now? Is it like a wedding? Do we dance after we eat? I’ve never been to anything like this.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  They each silently sipped their drinks and surveyed the room. “Hey, there’s your guy. You gonna say hello?”

  Scout’s gaze didn’t leave them. The more she watched Lucian and Nicole, the more she admitted how beautiful they were together. She didn’t know if she should be happy for him or cry. The champagne was going to her head. She hadn’t eaten much that day and now her bladder was painfully full.

  Her mind searched for courage she didn’t have so that she could make it to the ladies’ room. “I need to use the restroom,” she whispered to Nick.

  “Okay. Hey, check it out. They have an omelet station. Rich people are funny.”

  Nick was wonderful at going with the flow, she decided. She envied how comfortable he was with his station in comparison to the rest of the guests. There were likely others like themselves there, but Scout couldn’t pick them out of the crowd.

  Her eyes searched dimly lit doorways around the room and found a sign with fancy script. That could be the ladies’ room. She stood and was relieved her legs were working. However, as she tucked in her chair and took her first step, she swayed with the effects of the four glasses of champagne she’d consumed in the past twenty minutes. She needed to slow down.

  She shuffled through the crowd, mindful of some eyes—mostly male—watching her make her journey. She was so afraid Lucian might see her. She didn’t chance looking at him. Head down, she made her way to the door she hoped was the restrooms.

  Once she reached the perimeter of the ballroom, it was easier to slink by. She turned into the small hall and spotted a woman coming out of a door. Scout pressed the door wide and breathed a sigh of relief when she found a wall of sinks.

  She took care of business and washed her hands. It was jarring, seeing herself in the full-length mirror of the ladies’ room. In her high heels, her legs looked a mile long, especially because her dress was so short. Her butt was a tight little ridge covered in black, and her back was completely bare except for where her hair hung past her shoulders.

  “I love your dress.”

  She turned and found a woman in a blue cocktail dress washing her hands. “Thank you.”

  “I wish I had the guts to wear something like that. Although, I don’t know if my husband would want to leave the house then.” She laughed. “He already gave me an earful about dragging him here again. But what are you going to do? If it was up to him we’d never go anywhere.”

  Scout laughed nervously. “Yeah.”

  “Well, nice talking to you.” The woman left.

  Scout glanced back at her reflection. Shit. She wished there were a service exit so she could sneak out. What was she doing there? Lucian was with a date, and she’d told him to move on. It wasn’t right for her to come spying on him. She didn’t belong there. It was a painful and expensive lesson, but she got it.

  She pressed through the door and decided to tell Nick she changed her mind and wanted to leave. Her head was fuzzy and it took her a moment to locate her table. Had something changed in the room? It appeared different from this vantage point. Her footing slipped and she quickly grasped the arm of a man passing by. “Excuse me. Sorry.”

  She was drunk. Hopefully the first course would be served soon and she could get something in her stomach before they left. Or maybe they should just hit a diner. Scout looked up and spotted Lucian, smiling as an older woman pulled his lapel to whisper something in his ear. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on her it was as though a thousand silent words came crashing down.

  His expression fell as their gazes locked. Whatever the woman whispering to him was saying, she was sure he wasn’t listening. His lips parted and Scout could see the questions running through his head as his brow creased. He glanced to her left and right, perhaps looking for her escort.

  Her heart raced as her breath came fast. This was a mistake. Maybe if she left before he caught up to her, he’d think it was a case of mistaken identity. He didn’t need to know how immature she was and that she’d come here to spy on him.

  He turned to the older woman and appeared to excuse himself. Nottingham straightened like a lap dog prepared to follow her master, but he gestured to her with a steadying movement of his hand to wait and handed her his drink. She looked crestfallen and frowned at the two glasses now awkwardly filling her dainty, manicured hands.

  The second he stepped in Scout’s direction, panic set in. She spotted their table and, with as much grace as she could manage, quickly worked her way back to Nick. Her hip bumped into a guest and she apologized quickly, glancing back to see Lucian hot on her tail.

  She didn’t bother to take her seat when she reached the table. “Come on. We have to go!”

  Nick glanced up at her, startled. “Already? Why?”

  “Because—”

  “Ms. Keats.”

  Nick’s gaze darted over her shoulder. “Holy shit,” he muttered.

  Scout swallowed, feeling the blood rush from her face and turned. “Mr. Patras, nice to see you here.”

  He scowled. His gaze travelled over her barely there dress and over her shoulder, giving Nick an assessing glare. “I didn’t expect you to be in attendance.”

  “It was a last-minute thing.”

  “A very expensive last-minute thing,” he muttered. He extended his hand to Nick. “Lucian Patras.”

  Nick stood. “Nick Ramsey. Nice to meet you.”

  They shook and Lucian turned his gaze back to her, his displeasure at her presence slightly concealed, but very much obvious nonetheless. Her spine stiffened at the indignity of being caught and made to feel foolish. She was mad at herself but linked it all back to the intimidating man staring her down.

  Her chin lifted. “You’ll have to introduce me to your date,” she said succinctly.

  His lips tight
ened. “Might I have a word?”

  She glanced back at Nick, who shrugged. “I think they’ll be serving dinner soon—”

  His fingers wrapped around her arm. It was a casual gesture, but there was steel behind his grip. “Just a moment of your time.”

  She barely had a chance to shoot Nick an apologetic glance before Lucian dragged her away from the table. “You’re hurting my arm,” she hissed as he deftly worked his way through the crowd. “Where are we going?”

  He didn’t answer. Her feet worked hard to keep up with his clipped pace as he shuffled her down a corridor and out a door. They were in a courtyard when he finally released her. She glared at him, rubbing her arm.

  “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

  It was her turn to scowl. “Celebrating the Rose Bowl.”

  “Do you even know what the Rose Bowl is, Evelyn?”

  No. “Yes,” she answered indignantly.

  He gave her a look that called her a liar. “Who’s the guy?”

  “I believe introductions have been made.”

  He stepped closer and she stepped back. “Don’t play games with me. Who is he?”

  “A friend,” she quickly relented.

  “What kind of friend?”

  “Lucian, are we really going to do this?”

  “Oh, we’re doing this,” he growled, stepping closer again and causing her to take another retreating pace back. She glanced around the garden. It appeared they were alone.

  “I think we should go back inside.”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s some dress you’re wearing.”

  “I . . . I misunderstood the formality of the evening.”

  “A slight breeze and your nipples will show.”

  She uncomfortably crossed her arms over her chest. Damn him. His finger trailed over her bare shoulder, and she shivered.

  “You’ve had too much to drink and they haven’t served dinner yet.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He stepped closer again and she found it impossible to step back. “Why are you here?” he whispered, his fingers gently tugging her arms away.

  Her hands tingled and she insisted it was a result of the champagne. The tip of his index finger trailed over the slight swell of her breast, sweeping beneath the billowy fabric and coming dangerously close to her bare nipple.

  Unwanted company interrupted the moment. “Lucian?” He stilled and she sucked in a breath. Slowly he lowered his hand and turned.

  Nicole Nottingham stood at the door they’d exited, her long arms crossed over her perfect chest as though she had a chill. Scout stepped back. The woman’s face was questioning. Lucian paced back and Scout nearly cried at what the act implied.

  Lucian was with Nicole. She was his date and it was inappropriate for them to be out there in the garden alone.

  He turned and Nicole walked with the grace of a floating angel to his side. Scout hated her for being so perfect. She glanced at Lucian then to Scout questioningly. “Nicole Nottingham, this is Evelyn Keats.”

  The sting at having her name second in the introduction burned through her. She extended her hand and Nottingham did the same, turning her palm downward as though she expected her to kiss it. The shake was a mere gripping of fingers that carried much more class on the other woman’s end.

  “A pleasure,” she said slowly then turned to Lucian. “Dinner is about to be served, darling. We should go inside.”

  Darling? Scout was going to be sick.

  “I’ll be in in a minute.”

  The woman’s delicate smile twitched as though she didn’t want to leave them alone out there, but she retreated anyway. Once she was gone, Lucian turned on her. “Stop drinking. You’ve had enough.”

  “You’re not my father.”

  His jaw ticked. “No, I certainly am not. Come, I’ll walk you inside.”

  Was that it then? Was he really okay with her presence? He took her arm, this time without the force he’d used to get her out there. Her world was spinning and she was again thirsty.

  The volume of the room was stifling. Her steps slowed as her pace was unsteady. Lucian turned and frowned at her. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”

  She tugged her arm out of his grip. “I’m fine.” She was on the verge of tears. Why had she come here?

  He glowered. “I’m calling Dugan to take you home.”

  “Lucian!” she snapped. “I am not a child. I have as much right to be here as anyone.”

  Easing close he hissed, “You’re drunk and your body’s about to fall out of that scrap you’re passing off as a dress. I’ll be damned if you take another sip of alcohol and have that boy putting his paws all over you as he helps you out the door. Who the hell is he anyway?”

  “It’s none of your business. You have your own date to worry about.”

  His onyx eyes turned challenging. “What’s the matter, Evelyn? Having second thoughts?”

  Her palm twitched and she had the urge to slap him. “Not at all, darling. I’m just here to enjoy myself. What you do is your business. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I must get back to my date.”

  She turned to walk away as his punishing grip closed on her arm again, cutting off her fast escape. He growled in her ear, his warm breath a hot caress over her neck. “Don’t fucking play games with me, Evelyn. You won’t like the result.”

  She laughed derisively to cover her discomfort. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about me playing games, Lucian. That’s your style, not mine.”

  He released her arm. “We’ll see.”

  She took her escape the moment it was available. When she returned to their table, adrenaline was coursing through her veins so quickly her limbs were shaking.

  “You okay?” Nick asked.

  “Fine.” She turned. “Where’s the waitress?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m out of champagne,” she grumbled, very much wanting another drink.

  He gave her a measuring look and she tried for a reassuring smile, but failed. “I’ll go get you one.”

  Nick stood and went to the bar. Scout’s gaze traveled to Lucian’s table and saw him making apologies as he took his seat next to the trollop in the red gown. A waiter passed and Scout managed to snag a glass of champagne and drink it down before Nick returned.

  Lucian’s gaze landed on her, heavy with warning. She lifted her glass and saluted him from afar. His eyes narrowed.

  Nick returned and she looked away. She smiled as he placed a fresh glass in front of her. Servers brought out the first course, a light salad with mandarin oranges and some sort of raspberry dressing. Scout didn’t have much of an appetite, but it was in her best interest to eat.

  The first course was cleared away and replaced with a lovely pasta dish. Delicate little pillows of pressed pasta were stuffed with a salmon mousse and drizzled in a vodka sauce.

  As her stomach adjusted, her equilibrium seemed to right itself enough for her to have another drink. The people at their table were nice. They breezed over casual topics and by the third course, Scout somehow managed to forget Lucian’s presence, and by forget, she meant force herself to look in his direction only once a minute rather than steadily scrutinizing his every move.

  After dinner her stomach was happy and her body felt light. Music changed to a more upbeat selection, and couples slowly made their way to the dance floor. Scout turned and realized there was a band as well as a prerecorded selection of music.

  Her gaze returned to Lucian and found him watching her. Nottingham chatted with the woman to her right. Her mind went back to the first affair he’d ever taken her to. Scout recalled her fear of dancing that evening. She didn’t fear such things now. They’d taken many private dance lessons, something she now realized she missed.

  Her lips curled in a soft grin and she made a bare
ly perceptible nod, calling a momentary truce. His eyes softened and she wondered if he was recalling the same memories.

  Their connection was severed as Nicole stood. Scout’s stomach knotted as she leaned down and whispered in Lucian’s ear, her dainty hand brushing lightly over his shoulder. Nottingham left, and when Lucian looked back to Scout she lowered her gaze, no longer wanting to play at this game.

  “Want to dance?” Nick asked.

  She swallowed. “Sure.” She’d dragged him here and he’d been a great sport so far. The least she could do was dance if that was what he wanted to do.

  The music was an older song with a Motown swing to the beat. They slowly trotted around each other, and she forced a smile on her face. The alcohol in her system helped her to not overthink the fact that Lucian was watching them. When the song ended, she grinned at her date and caught her breath.

  “May I cut in?”

  Her steps faltered as she pivoted and found Lucian at her back. She glanced nervously at Nick, who swept his arm out invitingly and stepped aside. The song was not anything like the one that was just playing. A slow climb started on the piano as only one man sang slowly into the microphone.

  Lucian stepped in front of her and took her hand. Her fingers curled over his and her palm settled on his shoulders, his scent a sweet form of torture to her senses. Peace swept over Scout as he pulled her close. He led them slowly in circles and his presence enveloped her. She closed her eyes and breathed in the welcoming, familiar scent of him.

  “You look beautiful tonight.”

  His voice climbed into hidden places of her soul that shook with a longing almost impossible to contain. She was tired of fighting. “Thank you.”

  “I asked them to play this song for us.”

  Her lashes fluttered open. She glanced at him then to the band. Violins played softly from the shadows of the stage as the pianist sang. She focused on the words as Lucian glided with her.

  “I’ve never heard it before,” she said.

  “It’s by One Republic. It reminds me of you.”

  “Oh, Lucian . . .” She couldn’t do this.

  “Shhh, just let me have this moment of holding you without arguing about the past. I miss you, Evelyn.”